


Only The Song It Knows

by superbambi



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, Lady of the House of Love AU, for those of you who don't know what that means
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-01-03 17:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12151551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superbambi/pseuds/superbambi
Summary: A lady waits in her lonely castle for fate to deal her a new hand.A traveller explores foreign lands, looking for something new.And somewhere along the way, they find each other.





	1. Je Vous Attends

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU I've been mulling over for a long time. It's inspired by 'The Lady of the House of Love' by Angela Carter, from 'The Bloody Chamber' (a book I cannot recommend enough). I say 'inspired' because while I borrow the idea for the characters, and some symbolism, this little story veers off into different territory.
> 
> My aim is to update this weekly, but I can't promise chapters will be out exactly on time (yay for uni work). I have a whole heap of ideas about this AU, so if there are any questions, I will do my best to answer them!
> 
> Hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!
> 
> tumblr: heysupernumpty
> 
> PS: Blake isn't in chapter 1, but she will make her appearance very soon!

In the heart of the mountains of Atlas, far from the bustling cities and grassy plains of the south, there is a small town nestled within the shadow of an imposing granite castle. Weary travellers, exhausted from days of navigating through difficult and demanding terrain, sometimes find themselves here, seeking a bed for the night, a place where they can plan the next stages of the journey. It comes as a surprise to them to find that the town is completely devoid of people. They often wander curiously into comfortably furnished houses with no inhabitants, down uneven cobbled streets, small alpine flowers and weeds poking up between the stones. They will sit, confused, on the moss covered fountain in the town square, and consider their next move.

It is then that they see, from the corner of their eye, a man, dressed in typical Atlesian butler’s attire, approach them, and invite them to come follow him. They are led through the deserted streets by the man, until they come to the doors of the castle. The man will smile warmly, and usher them into the castle, and the traveller, head filled with the possibility of a full stomach and a comfortable bed will gladly enter.

And so it is here, in an old castle high above an abandoned town deep in the mountains, that the traveller will disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. The only evidence that they ever came to the castle is a fresh square of disturbed earth in the garden, tended to by the man. And then the next traveller will arrive.

It is this very cycle that Weiss considers, as she sits in her darkened study, shuffling a well worn deck of Tarot cards in her slender fingers. As the cards glide between her hands, she thinks of the travellers that have come to her castle, each one thanking her profusely for their meal, each one pleasantly surprised when she leads them to her chambers, and each one, grey and lifeless, being carried by Klein, her butler into the garden, while she wipes the red stains from her pale face with a handkerchief. A cycle of false hospitality, seduction, and gruesome deaths.

Weiss sighs internally at this. _Just listen to yourself. Winter would have laughed at your melodrama_. She ceases her card shuffling, and lays down three cards on her desk.

Die Hohepriesterin. Der Tod. Der Turm.

She signs again, out loud and exasperated this time. Those three cards - wisdom, death, destruction - were presented to her every single time she had dealt a hand, and after countless years of this, she felt like Fate was mocking her. Wisdom, death, destruction: the only three things that she would ever know. Yet another cycle there was no escape from. She puts down the rest of the cards, and slumps onto her desk, hands threading through her ivory hair.

It wasn’t her fault she was the monster that preyed on travellers. As a girl, her father would take her out in the moonlight to hunt birds and small animals, until the wildlife alone could no longer satisfy her. Her father then taught her the art of hunting humans, how to ensnare passing travellers and drink them dry. Weiss didn’t enjoy draining humans, and so secretly sought out other means of sating her appetite, much to her father’s disgust when he eventually found out. In the end though, instinct always won out, and Weiss would find herself with blood smeared across her face, and the corpse of a traveller on the floor, and she would be unexpectedly saddened, longing for something she couldn’t name.

It was only after the murders of her father, sister, and brother at the hands of the Hunters that she realised what that something was: companionship.

As kind and dear to her as Klein was, he was still in her employ, and so she once tried, in an attempt to combat her loneliness, to keep a pet rabbit. She had carefully made it a little nest on her desk, and fed it fresh lettuce grown in the garden. She had sung to it, petted it, talked to it, and for a while, she felt something close to happy. But after a month with no ‘guests’, her hunger grew to be stronger than her loneliness, and the little rabbit’s blood stained her mouth and clothes. She wanted to cry at her weakness, had it been possible. And so the rabbit was buried in the garden with the rest of her victims, and Weiss had scorned herself for ever believing she deserved to have a friend, let alone someone she could care for.

After all, she was a monster. And monsters aren’t worthy of love.

Weiss sits back up in her chair, correcting her posture, pulling herself from her dark thoughts. She gathers her cards up from the table where she had laid them, and begins shuffling them once more. The motion is repetitive, soothing, and she finds herself calming, relaxing in the familiarity of it. The cards are old, tattered, and she has handled them so much that the pictures are nearly faded from the surface. Winter had gifted to them to her one year, and the two had sat together shuffling the cards and reading their fortunes, for hours on end. Following Winter’s death, Weiss had treasured the cards dearly, and even though the cards were barely legible now, she could never bring herself to get rid of them.

She ceases shuffling, and lays three cards face down on the table. Her hand hovers over the first, but she pulls it back. She takes a moment to collect herself, then rises from her desk, and leaves the study, leaving the cards as they are.

_I can never change my fate, so why do I insist on trying to_?

She leaves the darkened study, and walks a familiar path through the castle, finding herself on the balcony overlooking the walled garden, lit only by the moon above. In this light, the only natural light Weiss has ever known, the garden had a deep blue hue to it, and the roses she was so fond of are highlights on their trellises. Her father had never cared for flowers, but Weiss enjoyed seeing the roses flourish, and appreciated the life they brought to this garden, where there was so much death lurking just beneath the surface.

When Weiss was young, she used to sneak out of lessons to the garden. Some nights, she would sit by the side of the pond, and graze her fingers across the surface of the water, delicately enough that she didn’t disturb the lilies on the surface. Other nights, she would personally tend to the roses, pulling off dying leaves, and artificially pollinating them. She used to sing to the roses, believing it would make them grow better. It was a habit she’d learned from her mother, and after her death, Weiss found herself unable to face the roses she had so loved for years, until the grief had dimmed, and they became her comfort and escape once more.

She stays out on the balcony for nearly an hour, simply relishing in the near silence of the night, in the scent of roses in the air, in the peace it all brought to her troubled mind. The garden could never be any kind of company for her, but it did serve a purpose in allowing her a moment to almost entirely forget her worries and her loneliness. A few moments where she didn’t feel trapped in a cycle, where she was just Weiss.

Of course it was then, as she began to truly relax for the first time that night, that she feels it. A pull from somewhere deep within her heart, an unexplainable yet undeniable urge that takes her from her thoughts, and leads her back through to her study, towards her desk, towards _the cards_. Weiss sits in her chair, and contemplates the three cards before, still face down from when she had laid them previously.

_What am I doing_ , she thinks, _why do I need to do this_?

She closes her eyes, and, with a shaking hand, slowly turns each of the cards over. She takes a moment to steel herself, and reopens her eyes.

Die Hohepriesterin. Der Tod. _Die Liebenden_.

She stares down at the last card in shock, and she almost wishes she could cry at the new card Fate has dealt her, and all that it represents. 

_The Lovers_.


	2. Superstitious Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your interest so far! I'm glad folks appreciate this little story.

The inn by Lake Ostbergsee was not unlike any of the other inns dotted throughout the mountains. It was a small wooden building, built and furnished in the style of traditional Atlesian lodges. The interior was illuminated with gaslights, and a large fireplace opposite the bar filled the room with warmth. There were hunting trophies adorning the walls, accompanying the collection of photographs depicting life in the mountains. The tavern was full of patrons, all travellers looking for a place to spend the night before continuing onwards. They talked noisily, and laughed obnoxiously as they ate and drank their fill, before stumbling towards their rooms.

It wasn’t, Blake concluded, the worst place she could have spent the night.

She was sitting in the back corner of the tavern, surveying the scene before her. Unlike everyone else, she was alone, quietly nursing her drink, and making no efforts to join in any of the ongoing conversations. Blake’s jacket was draped over the back of her chair, and her bag full of supplies rested against the leg of the table. A leather bound book sat next to her arm, and once she was satisfied with her observation of the tavern, she picked it up, and turned her attention back to the pages.

She was pulled from her book by the sound of the chair next to her being scraped across the stone floor. She gave a withering glare to the occupant, a stocky man whose arms were covered in scars, but it did nothing to deter him. Seeing as he was clearly not going to move, she focused on her book, ignoring the man, who was now eyeing her curiously.

“Where you headed, lass?” Blake sighed at the sudden, but not unexpected question, trying not to let her ears twitch in irritation. She kept her eyes to her book as she spoke.

“North east of here, towards Mantle.”

“Mantle?” The man questioned, “There’s nothing good there, s’practically a ghost town. ‘Sides, ain’t you heard what happens to folks who go there?”

“No.” Blake said, refusing to pay him any attention. She half-hoped he would take the hint and leave, but he carried on regardless.

“Well, put it this way: anyone who goes up there never comes back down.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “They say there’s a monster in that town, an’ it kills travellers at night. Not even Hunters wanna deal with it.” He sat back in the chair, and picked up Blake’s drink, taking a gulp before continuing. “An’ a lass like you, all by yourself, well, you won’t stand a chance up there.”

Blake glared at him from across the table.

“A ‘lass like me’ isn’t going to be put off by your silly ghost stories.”

“Ghost stories?” He laughed derisively. “Do you know how many people’ve gone missing near Mantle? No one goes there, not unless they got a death wish. I’m telling you lass, you go there, you’re gonna end up dead by tomo-” Blake stood suddenly, her chair falling back, as she cut him off with a raised voice.

“I’m _going_ to Mantle.” An uneasy hush fell over the tavern at her words. The patrons glanced curiously at her, whispering to each other low enough that she couldn’t make out their words. She glared at a group huddled in the corner, who turned away from her awkwardly, before focusing on the man in front of her. He shrugged, finishing off the last of her drink, before standing to leave.

“Don’t say you weren’t warned.” She watched him amble back to his friends at the bar, who were still eyeing her cautiously. She sighed, and picked up her chair, before gathering her belongings and making her way up the wooden stairs to her room for the night.

———

It was an hour after sunrise when Blake paid the innkeeper and set off on her journey, her bag on her back and her compass in her pocket. In the clear morning light, with the sun still low in the sky before her, she continued with her pre-determined route north east, following the trail along the mountains that would lead her to Mantle.

She’d been travelling though Atlas for almost a month, and she still couldn’t get over how varied the landscape was throughout the country, and how different it was to anything she had known back home. When she was younger, she used to explore the jungle round Kuo Kuana, but the rest of Menagerie was covered in endless, treacherous desert, and only an idiot would attempt to explore it, as her father had reminded her on several occasions. So, she had been pleasantly surprised at all Atlas had to offer: the lush green meadows that stretched across the horizons, so often filled with a colourful assortment of wildflowers; clear rivers that flowed to cerulean lakes, surrounded by shallow hills; the woods, pleasant and inviting where she could hear birdsong, and small mammals scurrying through the brush. And of course, the famous snow-capped mountains of Northern Atlas, full of natural wonders to be discovered, like the cascading waterfall she had found a week prior, or the large patch of strawberry bushes she had quite literally stumbled into.

By late afternoon, Blake came around the side of the mountain to seen an imposing granite castle, which almost seemed to be built into the mountain face, and nearly directly beneath that was a small town. She pulled out her map from her bag, and saw that this was Mantle, where she planned to rest for the night, before continuing with her trip. Blake stowed her map, and continued down the winding path to the town.

Once she reached Mantle, the first thing that struck her was how quiet it was. Not just quiet, she corrected, but silent. Her own movements and the slight whistle of a breeze blowing thought the cobbled streets were the only things she could hear at all. As she progressed further though the town, she saw that the houses were almost all open, and still fully furnished. The shop windows still had their displays up, but they had all faded considerably, and were covered with a layer of dust. The streets had weeds and small flowers poking through the cobblestones, and the numerous hanging baskets throughout the town were overgrown with the same weeds, instead of the beautiful flowers they must have once held.

Blake came to what she presumed must be the town square, a large open space with a mossy fountain at its heart, and several decaying statues at the perimeter. She sat near the fountain, setting her bag against the cracked stonework. It seemed like the stranger in the tavern the previous night had been correct, Mantle was a ghost town. _If that’s true_ , she thought, _was he right about the disappearing travellers_?

Her ears twitched uncomfortably from within the confines of her bow, and seeing as there was no-one else around, she tugged the bow from her head, and breathed out contentedly. The population of Menagerie was composed almost entirely of Faunus, so Blake had never had to hide there. The rest of the world, particularly Atlas, were still wary of the Faunus, a feeling made even stronger by violent Faunus factions threatening to bring war to the streets. Having to conceal herself by wrapping her ears for days at a time, simply to travel freely, had been the only real downside of her trip to Atlas.

A sudden click of boots on stone to her right startled her, and she hastily wrapped her ears back up, and turned to the sound. A middle-aged man, dressed in smart clothing Blake recognised as old-fashioned Atlesian servant wear, had come into the town square, and approached her. He smiled warmly at Blake.

“Good afternoon,” the man began, “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look like a traveler to these parts."

“You’re not wrong there.” Blake said. While the man seemed friendly, she couldn’t help but be on edge.

“In that case, may I offer you a room? And a meal as well, of course. You see, I’m the butler at the castle, and my lady has _insisted_ that travellers such as yourself are treated well. You've come all this way, and I'm afraid this town has little for anyone nowadays."

Blake found herself hesitating. While a meal and a bed sounded tempting, she was uneasy in this abandoned town, and the sudden appearance of the butler hadn’t helped.. Then again the light was fading fast, and there were no inns she could reach before nightfall. It wasn’t as though she had many options.

“Thank you, that’s…kind of you.” The man beamed.

“It’s no trouble, I assure you! Now, if you could please follow me.” Blake picked up her bag, and followed the man.

She was led back through deserted streets, following a route that Blake was struggling to remember, but one her guide seemed to know very well. After some time, she found herself in front of the entrance to the great castle, before a pair of wooden doors, around twice the size of Blake herself, decorated with polished iron embellishments. The man unlocked them, and the doors swung open seemingly by themselves. He turned back to Blake with that kind smile, and gestured for her to enter. She peered into the dimly lit corridor that lay before her. 

_Well_ , she thought, _I hope that man last night was wrong about the monsters_ , and she walked into the darkness.


	3. Suivez-Moi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a total bitch to write, and not just because yours truly broke her finger playing rugby this week.  
> Anyway, it's a wee bit short, but I still hope you enjoy!

The great doors of the castle swung shut behind her, scarcely making a sound, and Blake’s eyes quickly adjusted to the low light, taking in the entrance hall. A candelabra provided the only illumination, shining off the marble floor, and highlighting the polished hardwood of the grand staircase before her. Her eyes were drawn to what appeared to be a portrait of a family, dressed in old Atlesian formal-wear, positioned prominently at the landing of the stairs. She took a step closer to investigate.

“If you would follow me.” The butler’s voice snapped her out of her curiosity, and she turned to see him holding open a small door to the left of the staircase. Blake followed him, giving one last glance to the painting, into a dark, narrow corridor. It was clearly designed for servants, full of sharp corners, and doors dotted along the walls semi-frequently. At one of the doors, the butler stopped, and opened it to reveal a small kitchen, tinted orange by the setting sun. He gestured for Blake to enter with a smile.

“Please, take a seat here while I prepare something. It will only take a few minutes.” He pulled out a chair at a small table against the wall, then, once Blake was seated, busied himself with a pan on the iron stove in the corner. The room quickly filled with the smell of cooking, and true to his word, within a short space of time, he placed a bowl of thick soup and a hunk of bread in front of her.

“It’s not much I’m afraid, but I hope it will suffice.”

“Really, it’s more than enough.” She smiled, and hoped it seemed less wary, and more grateful than she thought it was. “Thank you.” The butler smiled back, and sat opposite her at the table. She could feel his eyes on her as she ate, and when she looked up, he appeared to be regarding her with curiosity, and a hint of _something else_ she couldn’t place. 

“If you don’t mind my asking,” he began, “what brought you to Mantle? Like I said before, there’s little here for anyone now.” Blake shrugged.

“It was a convenient rest point on my journey. I didn’t know it was deserted before I came.” She paused to tear off a piece of bread. “How long has it been like that for?” The butler tilted his head in consideration.

“Oh, it must be… well, several years now, anyway. Quite a sudden affair, I seem to remember, and a peculiar one too.”

“Why did they leave?” _They say there’s a monster in that town_. “Did something happen?” The butler frowned slightly, and sat straighter in his chair, his entire demeanour different from before. He seemed to be considering his next words carefully,

“I don’t know the specifics, but I believe there were rumours abo-” A sharp ringing noise made Blake jump slightly, and cut the butler off mid sentence. He stood to examine the source, a series of bells next to the stove, with small, neatly written labels underneath.

“I must apologise,” the butler said, “but my lady has requested my services. Please, take the time to finish your meal. I shouldn’t be very long.” He smiled and bowed, before leaving Blake alone in the kitchen. She finished up the rest of her soup, sopping up the remnants with the bread, then pulled her book out of her bag while she waited. She soon found herself read the same sentence three, maybe four times, and still not taking it in. Instead, the same few questions swirled around persistently in the forefront of her mind: _what happened in Mantle_ , _should I be worried_ , and, most prominently of all, _am I in danger here_?

A gentle knock at the door signalled the butler’s return a few minutes later. He stepped in, keeping the door open behind him, and Blake couldn’t help but notice he seemed _different_ to before, but she couldn’t work out why.

“My lady requests that you join her in the drawing room before you retire. She’s eager to meet our guest for the night.” He gestured to the poorly lit corridor behind him. “Please, follow me.”

Blake followed him along the servant’s hallway, through the disorientating maze of lefts and rights, until they came to a section wide enough for them to stand next to each other. Before them was a beautifully varnished door, with what appeared to be a stylised snowflake carved into the wood. Just below the carving, the butler knocked four times, and a voice could be heard replying from within.

“ _Hereinkommen_.”

The door swung open, and Blake barely had time to straighten out her jacket before she was ushered inside a richly decorated room. Paintings and tapestries adorned the pure white walls, hardwood cabinets held shining silverware and fine Mistrali porcelain, and a roaring fire in a granite hearth filled the room with warmth. In front of the fire was an elegant side table, flanked by two winged chairs. Her eyes were drawn upward to the ceiling, decorated with the same snowflake she’d seen on the door, this time painted in ice blue, and embellished with silver.

Behind her, the butler noiselessly shut the door, and hurried over to her. He guided her to sit in one of the chairs by the fire, then turned to the other chair, which was occupied by a pale young woman who Blake hadn’t noticed before. The butler leaned in to speak to her in hushed tones, and while Blake couldn’t make out their conversation, she was definitely aware of the woman’s blue eyes flicking over to her with an unreadable expression, bordering somewhere between curiosity and suspicion.

Eventually, the butler nodded, and stood back beside her chair. The woman faced Blake fully with a faint smile, light from the fire glinting off her necklace, and the ring on her finger.

“Good evening,” she said eventually, in a soft, smooth voice, “Would you care for coffee?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I promise, they're going to interact next time. I'm sorry I made you think it was happening today.  
> Also, next chapter probably won't be out till nearer Saturday (14/10/17), because uni work is now my whole life...  
> We should be back to weekly updates after that, just need a little more room this week!


	4. Vous Serez Ma Proie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit this is longer than I thought it was going to be.  
> Hope you enjoy, nonetheless.

“There’s a traveller just arrived in town, my lady. Would you like me to see to them?”

The words Weiss had been dreading to hear. She’d been in an unfamiliar state of anxiety recently, and she was, by now, absolutely certain she hated it. Through the days, she would lock herself in the library, buried in her books, and at night, she stayed out in the garden, tending to the roses with singleminded determination. Anything to keep her mind off the cards in an orderly pile on her desk, off of that _damned_ card.

Part of her hoped that no-one would ever come to Mantle again, and she could wither away into oblivion, never having to understand what her new fate meant. But, Klein’s appearance in the study that afternoon shattered any chance of such blissful ignorance.

Weiss managed to maintain her neutral expression, and looked up to see Klein still standing at the door, hands behind his back, eyebrow raised expectantly. 

“Of course. Take good care of our guest before I see them.” The words were heavy with euphemism, yet another part of this little façade. He nodded, bowing slightly, and as he stood, she saw a flash of red across his eyes, gone almost in the same moment.

He left the room as he came in, door closing behind him nearly silently, and Weiss listened to the soft clicking of his boots disappearing down the corridor. She set aside her book, and stood before the delicately carved double doors leading to the hallway. She laid her slightly shaking hands on the doors, and took a breath to steady herself. _This is it. Tonight, I find out what Fate intends_ , and she swung the doors open.

The sound of her heels echoed off the walls as she walked smartly to the drawing room. The hallway was lined with family portraits, and on any other night, Weiss kept her head down, dreading to look at their judging eyes. Tonight, however, she kept her head straight, fixed on the portrait of her father positioned above the drawing room doors, his expression as disapproving as it had been in life, but for maybe the first time ever, Weiss didn’t care. _Tonight is going to be different, Father_.

Once in the drawing room, she sat in her chair, waiting for the grandfather clock in the corner to mark the hour. The hearth was already lit, and the room itself needed little else in the way of preparation. It was simply the set dressing for her macabre performance. All Weiss had to do now was wait to signal Klein, and set events into motion. Soon enough, there was a delicate chiming from the clock, and Weiss moved over to the pulley system in the corner, found the string labelled ‘kitchen’ in her own elegant script, and tugged it gently. She sat back in her chair just as Klein appeared from the servants’ door to stand by her chair.

“Is everything prepared?”

“Yes, my lady.

“Excellent. Bring our guest to me as soon as you can.” He smiled, a hint of malice slipping into his expression.

“Very well.” 

He seemed to be gone for an agonisingly long time. The clock ticked down the seconds, and Weiss could feel herself growing more anxious as each one passed. She found herself running her fingers along the cool band of her mother’s ring, finding only a little comfort in the sensation. The ring had been gifted to her after her mother’s death, but she couldn’t summon the strength to wear it for many years. After the Hunters attacked, she’d found a strange peace in wearing the ring, and right now, she turned to its familiarity to ease her tension

She was startled into the present by four sharp knocks on the door, and she adjusted her posture before answering.

“ _Hereinkommen_.”

The door swung open, and a girl was guided into the drawing room by Klein. She didn’t seem to notice Weiss at first, instead casting her gaze about the room in wide-eyed wonder, most likely taking in her surroundings. It was, in fairness, a common reaction of her guests. Klein gently touched her shoulder, bringing her eyes back down from the ceiling, and led her to the chair opposite Weiss’s own. The girl blinked in surprise when she realised someone was in the other chair, and there was a flicker of movement from the bow in her hair, quick enough a human might not have noticed. Weiss made brief eye contact with the girl, noting the unusual colour and shine of her eyes, before the girl looked away. _A Faunus, perhaps. How interesting_. Weiss angled herself towards Klein, hoping to limit what the girl could make out of their conversation.

“She’s a little curious, my lady, asking questions about Mantle earlier. I’m also near certain she’s Faunus, but I can’t quite tell.” Weiss hummed softly in response.

“I would agree with that assessment. If I were to guess, I would suspect she has ears under her bow, so we should take caution with our words. What did you tell her regarding Mantle?”

“The usual, although we were cut off, and I suspect she may have questions for you. She seems the sort to not let the matter go.” She flicked her eyes over to the girl again, who seemed to be watching her with interest and guarded caution.

“Very well. Thank you, Klein.” He nodded, and stepped back to her right hand side.

“Good evening,” she said, once the girl seemed settled, “Would you care for coffee?” The girl cleared her throat quietly before speaking.

“Could I have tea? If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Please, it’s no trouble at all. You’re my guest, after all.” She nodded at Klein, who bowed in response before quietly exiting the room, leaving Weiss alone with the girl. She could feel anxiety rising again, this time more intensely than before, and she absently reached for her ring again. She smiled at the girl, settling back into the script, hoping it would ease her tension. However, the girl spoke first.

“Thank you for inviting me here tonight, uh, my lady. I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do.” Weiss waved a hand airily.

“It’s my pleasure. It would be cruel to leave travellers like yourself out on the streets, it’s only right that I open my doors to you. And please, drop the formalities. You’re my guest, after all. You can call me Weiss. But what should I call you?”

“Blake would be fine.” Weiss nodded. _An interesting name. Pretty as well. It suits her_. She paused briefly in surprise at her thoughts, then carried on, mentally scolding herself as she did. 

“So, Blake, where are you from originally?” Blake shifted, clearly a little uncomfortable with the question.

“A village, outside the kingdoms. I don’t think you’ll have heard of it.” A lie, Weiss decided, but one she wasn’t going to press. She nodded instead.

“And what brings you to Atlas? To Mantle, of all places? I’m sure it’s been said before, but this isn’t really the place for travellers such as yourself.”

“I want to travel, see the world. It’s all I’ve wanted to do since I was a girl.” She smiled slightly, and Weiss was surprised at how it resonated within her. “Atlas is somewhere I’ve always wanted to go, so I just decided to go. As for Mantle, it’s like I said to your butler, it was simply a convenient place to stop. I didn’t know it was empty.” Blake looked at her with a sudden sharpness to her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the reappearance of Klein, bearing two steaming mugs on his tray. He set them down gently on the table, then stood by Weiss’ chair.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, my lady?”

“That will be all for now, thank you.” Klein bowed briefly, and met her eyes as he stood to leave, an unspoken message passing between them. Blake cradled her tea in her hands, watching him leave, then turned back to Weiss with the same intense look in her eyes as before, and Weiss couldn’t bring herself to turn away.

“Your butler said earlier that Mantle had been deserted for years, and that the people left suddenly.” Weiss nodded in agreement, raising her own mug to her lips in an illusion of drinking. Blake continued. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did they leave? Did something happen?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you the exact details, but I can do my best.” She paused to fake a sip. “There were, as I understand, rumours about monsters and suchlike in the town. These rumours were fuelled, unfortunately, by several townsfolk disappearing. Several teams of Hunters were called, and each one found nothing. However, people kept vanishing, and so the townsfolk made the decision to leave, to try and protect what was left of them. It was a very sudden affair, here one week, and gone the next.” She looked over at Blake, who was leaning forward slightly in her chair, her mug halfway to her lips. Once she realised Weiss was finished speaking, she leaned back in her chair and took a sip of tea.

“What do you think happened?” Weiss raised an eyebrow at her, a little surprised at the question. “Those people who vanished. What do you think happened to them?” _Klein was right. She doesn’t let a matter go_. Weiss shrugged.

“The mountains can be a very dangerous place, as I’m sure you’re aware. If you get something wrong out there, it can be very difficult to find you. Most likely, they made a mistake, and suffered for it.” Blake nodded slowly, but Weiss could tell that she wasn’t entirely content with the answer.

There was a brief silence while the two drank (or pretended to drink) their tea and coffee, and Weiss took the opportunity to regard the curious Faunus that Fate had seemingly presented her with. Blake seemed to be on edge, observing everything with a faintly suspicious frown, which only relaxed when she sipped at her tea. Her golden eyes were constantly flicking around the room, and when they came back to rest on her, Weiss was struck with a peculiar sensation. _Most likely nerves_ , she decided. Her ears seemed to follow her eyes round the room, if the flicking underneath that bow was anything to go by, and it was oddly amusing to watch.

“Is this your mother?” Weiss had been too interested in watching Blake’s bow to realise she’d stopped her observation of the room. She looked at her, a little confused, before Blake indicated to the wall to the back of her chair. Without looking, she knew what she was pointing at, and smiled a little sadly. Blake noticed, and her face fell in apology.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped my boundaries, it seemed strange it was the only portrait here. I didn’t think befo-” Weiss held up a hand to stop her.

“It’s all right, I understand.” She turned to look at the portrait, still speaking to Blake. “It’s my sister, actually. I hung it here to remind me of her.” Winter had hated the portrait. _Damned thing, makes me look angry and bitter. Do us all a favour, and get rid of it_. Weiss had actually quite liked it, thought it made her look proud, and confident, very much like the woman herself. After she was gone, Weiss had it hung in the drawing room, not just to remember her sister, but to remember what she taught her. It was also more comforting to have Winter in this room, as opposed to having her father judging her course of actions.

She wasn’t going to tell Blake any of _that_ , though.

“I’m sorry.” The other girl said, in a quiet, but sincere voice. Weiss turned back to look at her, struck by her sombre expression. One of her hands resting on her knee with her cup, the other lightly against cheek, her bow and ears slightly deflated, her eyes shining with the light from the fire, her mouth- That’s quite enough of that, Weiss.

“It was a long time ago. What’s done is done, after all.” Blake nodded, and went to drink her tea, only to pause, and instead, set it aside with a hollow clink.

“Are you finished? I can call for another if you’d like.”

“I appreciate it, but no thank you. I have a long journey to make tomorrow, and I should really be resting.”

“Of course.” Weiss stood, feeling highly anxious all of a sudden. “Let me show you to your rooms.” The next act was about to begin, but for the first time in a long time, Weiss wasn’t sure what was going to happen.

She led Blake out into the portrait hallway, feeling her father’s eyes on her back as she took her left into the east hallway. She was aware of Blake behind her, could feel her looking around her at the paintings lining the halls, but Weiss was more concerned with the feelings threatening to bubble over within her. Over and over again in her mind, _that_ card confronted her, and her own doubts and anxieties of so many years swirled maliciously. Were she human, she was certain her heart would be racing, her blood pounding in her ears, her lungs frantically inhaling. She barely managed to keep her face neutral, struggling with this overwhelming sensation. _Is this… fear? Panic?_

Arriving at the guest bedroom door did nothing to alleviate her tension, but she still smiled kindly at Blake, as she gently opened the door.

“I hope this suits you well. Should you need anything in the night, there’s a bell by the door. I’m sure you understand how that works.” Blake looked around the room, nodding with satisfaction.

“This is wonderful,” she turned to smile at Weiss, and she couldn’t resist smiling back, “thank you.” She turned her back to set aside her bag and coat, and Weiss was struck with a moment of indecision. Any other time, this when she would strike, blood spilling across herself and the room, but today, as she had so often reminded herself, as the card dancing across her mind reminded, was different. She could feel her muscles tense, and the familiar nip of elongated canines against her lip. Her hunger was crying out to be sated, the hunter within her ready to act, but the girl who believed in Fate was holding it back, curious to see what this traveller would bring

And as quickly as it came, the moment was gone. Blake turned around, a little surprised to find her still standing there, and Weiss smiled with tight lips to try and sate her curiosity. She nodded slightly, before turning towards the door.

“As I said, should you need anything, let us know. I hope you have a peaceful night.” Weiss almost couldn’t get the words out fast enough, and she half-ran out the door. She walked briskly down the corridor, hands in fists by her sides, claw-like nails extending and digging into the palm of her hands. She didn’t know where she was going, but she couldn’t be near the guest bedroom, not right now, not with the way her instincts were howling at her.

“My lady!”

In her hurry to escape, she hadn’t noticed Klein emerge, as he always did, from a door concealed in the east hallway, holding a handkerchief and a large cloth bag. He hurried to her in concern, but she batted his hands away.

“There’s nothing to do tonight, Klein. Leave me be.” He paused, frowning as he took in her appearance properly.

“Is… is she still _alive?_ ” He hissed the last word in disbelief, eyes burning red. She glared at him, baring her fangs as she did, and his expression cooled slightly, but he continued to frown disapprovingly.

“See to it that she is treated well in the morning. But, whatever you do,” she paused, turning back to the end of the hallway, “ _don’t_ let her leave.”

Weiss left Klein fuming in the hallway, and continued, less frantically, away from the guest bedroom. She wasn’t surprised when she found her feet leading to the garden, place of sanctuary that it was. The night air was cool, and the light of the moon illuminated the garden in an ethereal glow. She skirted the edge of the pond, and knelt in front of one of the roses on a trellis, gently caressing the petals in an odd circular pattern. She sighed heavily, the weight of the evening’s events settling on her.

_What have I done? And what am I going to do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, they've met and talked. And nothing's quite gone according to plan. But hey, isn't that how life works?  
> Hopefully, another chapter should be out next week, so stay tuned folks!  
> Also, probably going to change the summary soon, but I am far too tired to do that right now. Also also, if there's mistakes here (entirely possible), please let me know. I've typed too many essays, and now my mental spellcheck isn't working.  
> PS: Guess who forgot that volume 5 came out today. Whoops.


	5. Strange Playthings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, longer than I thought it would be, but you're not going to catch me complaining  
> Hope you enjoy!

As she had the day before, Blake woke with the early morning sun streaming in through a small window. She washed and dressed quickly, repacking anything she had taken out into her bag, and after a moment’s consideration, straightened out the bedsheets. It was only polite, after all.

There was a polite knock at the door, and she opened it to find the butler. Immediately, he seemed less genial than the night before, and emanated an air of tension. Blake was surprised that his demeanour had shifted so quickly, but then again, given the odd way the lady ( _Weiss_ , she reminded herself) had behaved at the end of the night, maybe these oddities were what passed for normal in this castle.

“If you could follow me to the kitchen,” he said, and even his voice seemed tense, “breakfast is waiting.”

The walk to the kitchen was as quiet as the day before, but this time, the atmosphere was colder. The butler didn’t look back to see she was still following, and certainly didn’t smile encouragingly. He seemed to have lost that slight skip in his step, and instead half-marched along the hallways and corridors. Once they arrived at the kitchen, he moved straight to the stove, waving airily at the table.

“Give me a minute,” he said, “this won’t take me long.”

As before, the smells and sounds of cooking filled the room as the butler poked whatever was frying in the pan. He seemed to relax slightly as he cooked, shoulders dropping with relieved tension, and as he did, the atmosphere lightened greatly. Eventually, he presented her with a plate, and a glass of water, and smiled at her, less cheerfully than he had the night before. She ate quietly, and he cleaned a little of the kitchen while waiting. When he faced her again, she cleared her throat and spoke.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done. I really appreciate all this.” She smiled politely, and the butler smiled back, even less enthusiastically than before. “But I’ve got a long journey ahead, and I’ll really have to be going soon if I’m going to reach Alsius by tonight.” The butler frowned slightly at that, tension returning in an instant.

“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your night,” he began, “however, I’m afraid leaving today won’t be possible.” She looked at him with faint horror. “There’s heavy snowfall expected soon, and it will likely make the paths treacherous. To let you continue on the mountain roads, knowing this would happen? No no no, it’s simply unforgivable. Therefore, my lady has asked that we keep you here until the trouble is over.” She blinked at him in confusion, few of his words sinking in properly.

“I-It’s spring! Why would there be snow?” The butler raised an eyebrow at her, in almost mocking disbelief.

“It’s very cold up here in the north. We get snow all the way through to summer, on occasion. And snowy roads are dangerous whatever time of year it may be.”

“But I can’t stay here!” Blake blurted the words out in a rush. “I need to leave! I’m on a schedule! I-I need to get to Nordosthafen by the start of summer!” The butler shrugged carelessly.

“As I said, I’m afraid that is simply not possible. You are to stay here for the time being. Once the danger is passed, you’ll most likely be able to leave.” _Most likely?_ The bell next to the stove rang once, and he turned towards the door, speaking as he walked. “In the meantime, feel free to explore the castle. But, do take care not to disturb my lady during the day. She does not take kindly to interruptions.” He stopped before he left, and half-turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Oh, and since you’re staying, I suppose I should introduce myself. You may call me Klein, and should you require assistance, please let me know.” He tilted his head to signal the end of the conversation, and left abruptly, door closing shut after him.

Blake sat in stunned silence for a moment, staring first at the door, and then blankly at her cooling food. _I’m…stuck here? What the hell am I going to do?_ Slowly, she turned her attention to her plate, idly picking at what was left, but barely able to focus. Staying here meant her carefully calculated schedule was ruined, which meant she’d never catch the boat at the start of summer, which meant she would never be home in time for autumn like she’d promised her parents. In fact, she may not be home until winter, or even spring next year. She poked her food a little more, before deciding she’d lost her appetite. She pushed aside her plate, and put her head on the table with a groan. _So what am I going to do in the meantime?_ She rolled her head to face the door to the corridor, ears twitching slightly. _He did say I could explore this place. And I guess there’s not much else to do._ She grabbed her bag and jacket, and pushed the door open.

She picked her way down the narrow corridor, aiming to start her exploration in the drawing room, being more familiar than the rest of the castle. Trying to remember the numerous turns Klein had made the day before, however, was more difficult than she had anticipated. It had been disorientating with a guide, and trying to navigate the maze of landmark-less corridors alone was a nightmare. Eventually, after much backtracking, she came to a wider section, with that increasingly familiar snowflake carved on the door ahead. She gently pushed against it, but it refused to move until she put nearly her whole weight against the wood.

Once inside, it was immediately clear that this was not the drawing room Blake had been hoping to find. It was a long room, with a large, wide dining table occupying most of the length. There was (in Blake’s estimation) about 20 chairs around the table, each one with a range of knives, forks, and spoons delicately arranged in front of it. There were serving plates laid atop the elegant white tablecloth, and portraits along the walls, all adding to the image of a grand castle dining room.

But quickly, Blake began to notice that there was something… _off_ about the room. In fact, everything was off, in one way or another. The room, and everything in it, was coated with a thin layer of dust. The tablecloth was the colour of spoiled milk, rather than a pristine snow white. Every piece of the silverware was tarnished, and the serving plates were yellowed. The portrait frames were damaged, the pictures themselves either faded or flaking, hints of mould creeping in from the corners. 

She ran her finger along the tablecloth, the dust and a faint scent of rot rising to irritate her nose. It seemed unusual for a dining room in a castle such as this to be left in this condition. _It must have been left for years, maybe even decades, by the looks of things. But why?_

She looked over to one of the less corrupted portraits, which with a closer look, seemed to be in the same style as the one she saw above the grand staircase. It depicted three children, two girls and a boy, dressed in formal wear of the old Atlesian style, and sitting together in a uncomfortable manner. All three had the same pale colouring, suggesting a familial relationship. The girls seemed to be older than the boy, and the two of them looked out to the viewer with serious, faintly sorrowful expressions, a contrast to his smile. Blake frowned slightly, feeling an uncomfortable twinge of recognition as she looked at the portrait. _It could just be a strong family resemblance. A very strong resemblance._ She reached out to wipe some of the grime from the nameplate at the base of the frame.

There was a soft thud somewhere beyond the walls, and her hand shot back to her side, her ears twitching to attention. She quickly faced the direction of the sound, waiting to hear it again, but heard nothing else. _I wouldn’t be surprised if it was someone keeping an eye on me. Probably that butler. Best to leave, I think._ She turned to the double doors at the other end of the room, not before frowning one last time at the walls.

This hallway was new to her. It was the same style of the one Weiss had led her down the night before, but like the dining room, gave a strong sense of having been disused for a long time. There were faded rectangles of wallpaper dotted along the wall, indicating where decorations used to hang. There were other hallways leading off from this one, leading to more parts of the castle for exploration, but Blake hadn’t been that interested in any of them. Until, that is, she looked down one such hallway to see it was almost completely black, barely any light reaching the door that Blake could just see at the end of the passage. _That seems…odd. Could be worth a look._

The creak of the floorboards beneath her feet accompanied the steady beat of her boots, as she moved carefully towards the door. Even with her gifted eyesight, the hallway was still dark, and she walked cautiously to avoid tripping. Soon enough, she reached the door, which seemed to be older than the others, though it still had that small snowflake carved into the wood. She put her hand to the wood, then hesitated. She knocked softly, waiting to hear if there was any response from within, and when there was none, pushed the door open.

Much like the passage outside, the room was dark, no windows letting in light, and only one solitary candle, melted to the end of its wick, providing a pitiful amount of illumination. Unlike in the dining room, there was no evidence of dust or abandonment here. There was very little in the way of furnishings, only a desk, chair, and bookshelf. The books on the shelves seemed to be bound in leather, and fairly old, but still, Blake supposed, in good condition. The titles were in languages she couldn’t read, largely Old Atlesian, with a few Mistrali books here and there. She ran her fingers along the spines of the books, wandering over to the desk which served as the centrepiece of the room. It was mostly clear of debris, a few handwritten letters on one side, a dried out ink pot on the other, and the remains of the candle somewhere between the two. The letters were yellowed with age, and like the books, written in Old Atlesian. She sat in the stiff backed chair which sat behind the desk, drumming her fingers against the wood. On the desk immediately in front of the chair, there were several lines of scratches, crudely carving out chunks of wood. She reached out to the letters, aiming to flick through them idly, but was distracted by an item beneath them.

Tucked under the letters was a small pile of cards. The designs on the front were almost completely worn away, but Blake could just make out a grinning skeleton brandishing a scythe on the topmost card. _It’s a bit morbid for a card deck. Who would want these?_ She flicked through the cards, hoping to get some idea of their use, but each one was faded to varying degrees. The clearest was at the back of the pack, showing what looked like two people and an angel, but it still gave her no clue what this pack was for. She sorted them back into their pile, keeping the last card separate, and placed them in front of her on the desk. She examined the card in her hands more thoroughly, turning it this way and that. At the bottom of the card, there was a small square with text in it, but the writing was so faded, Blake could barely make it out. She pulled what was left of the candle towards her, and held the card up to her face, squinting at it as though it would make the words clearer.

“ _What do you think you’re doing_?”

Blake started at the voice, nearly dropping the card, and looked up to see Weiss glaring at her inside the doorway. She hadn’t heard her come in, or even heard her outside in the hallway. She jumped up from the chair, hands behind her back, fiddling with the edges of the card in her fingers.

“I-I was just looking, I didn’t damage anything, I swear, I-” She was cut off by Weiss raising her hand to silence her, her ring glinting in the dim light. Weiss marched towards the desk, next to where Blake stood, and gently, carefully picked up the pile of cards. She handled them as though they were fragile porcelain, taking great care not to bend or upset them in any way. She ran her fingers down the topmost card, and looked over them with scrutiny, as though examining them for flaws. Blake anxiously tapped the card behind her back, then held it out in front of her.

“Here.” Weiss snapped out of her reverie, and glared at her fiercely. Blake swallowed, and thrust the card towards her.

“This card. I was looking at it. Thought you might want it back.” Blue eyes flicked briefly down to the card, and, still glaring at her, Weiss slid the card from her fingers. She turned it face up on the top of the deck, and froze, her eyes going wide, and whatever colour was in her face draining rapidly. Her lip seemed to quiver slightly at the card, and she ran her fingers almost reverently along the design. _Well done Blake. You’ve managed to upset her. Again._ Blake opened her mouth to apologise, but Weiss spoke first.

“Why did you pick this one?” Blake looked at her with confusion. “I mean, what was it about _this_ card,” she tapped it softly, “that made you choose it?” Blake shrugged slightly.

“It was the one with the clearest picture.” Weiss frowned at that, not looking satisfied with her answer.

“You didn’t _feel_ anything? You weren’t _drawn_ to this card above all others?” Blake shook her head, not entirely sure what Weiss wanted to hear.

“No, not really. Is that meant to happen with these things?” Blake hadn’t _thought_ she’d said anything particularly offensive, but Weiss’ shocked expression said otherwise.

“Do you know what ‘these things’ are? Or even what they’re for?” She got no response. “ _These_ are Tarot cards, used by many people for fortune telling. It was once very popular among Atlesian noble families. I presumed it was an international practice, but apparently not.” She shuffled the cards between her pale fingers absent-mindedly, relaxing visibly as she does. She hesitated for a moment, seeming to consider something. “I could show you how it works, if you’d like.” She smile, a hopeful kind of smile that Blake can’t refuse. She nodded in response, and Weiss held out the cards facedown in front of her.

“Pick three cards, any three you wish,” she said, “and lay them down on the desk. Facedown, so you can’t see them, of course.” _Here goes something_. Blake picked her cards, and lay them down carefully, a gesture Weiss seemed to appreciate. She set the other cards off to the side. “Each card means something different, and the order of the cards can alter that meaning, but for now, I shall keep it simple. Now, if you could turn over the cards. One by one, please.”

The first card was more faded than the others, but Blake could make out a woman dressed in blue. Weiss stiffened beside her when she saw the card. Blake looked at her curiously, but Weiss signalled to keep going. The next card was the one with the skeleton and the scythe. She didn’t even know what it meant, but she was pretty certain that it wasn’t going to be anything good. At the corner of her vision, she noticed Weiss’ hands were shaking, and as Blake reached for the final card, it only got worse. She turned it over, seeing the same card she’d been examining earlier. Blake turned back to Weiss, who wasn’t shaking anymore, but was instead standing perfectly still, staring at the cards with a blank expression.

“So, does it mean anything good?” Weiss didn’t seem to hear her, and Blake reached out to gently lay a hand on her shoulder. “Weiss? Are you…all right?” As soon as her hand made contact, Weiss grabbed her hand in a vice grip and spun to face her. Her eyes were burning with anger, her other hand clenched in a fist by her side. Gradually, her grip slackened, and the anger dwindled in her eyes, replaced by resignation. Her fist remained clenched though, and her body was tense.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” She said quietly, dropping Blake’s hand. “I don’t _want_ you in here.”

“Weiss, I-”

“Do you not understand?” She glared at her, jaw clenching. “ _Leave_.” The word was hissed from between gritted teeth, a command to be obeyed without question. Blake hurried past the desk to the door, looking back one last time to see Weiss watching her leave with an unreadable expression. 

She walked cautiously back down the dark passageway. She was about halfway down when she heard a heavy crash from inside the room, and muffled cursing in a language she didn’t understand. She took that as her cue to walk faster, turning right down the empty hallway and not looking back until she reached the double doors at the far end. Pushing them open led to a balcony overlooking a garden, lit by the afternoon sun. Blake leaned against the balustrade, head swirling with thoughts of Klein, the dining room, the hallway, the dark room, the cards, and most prominently and consistently of all, _Weiss_. Nothing made sense on its own, and it all made even less sense when put together. She closed her eyes, drinking in the last of the day, and sighed heavily.

_I need to understand what this all means. I’m going to find out what’s going on here, whether I’ll like it or not_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. That's quite a goal you've set for yourself Blake. Sounds a little ominous though. I wonder how this will go...  
> Stay tuned for the next chapter, some time next week. I mean, only if you want to. I'm not forcing you to do anything.  
> Summary is still going to be updated, however uni's a bitch, and I don't have time to think about wee things like that.  
> PS: Who's excited for volume 5 shenanigans? Hoping for a rwby reunion this year, but I mean, who the flying fuck knows with this show. (also not-so-secretly hoping for a monochrome reunion ahaha I'm garbage send help)  
> PPS: I got a dog this week. Nothing to do with this, but hey, I'm excited about it, and I wanted to share.


	6. The Lark Sings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weiss finds that sticking to her promises is proving harder than she thought...
> 
> (hope you enjoy, folks!)

It had been three days since The Incident, as Weiss had been mentally referring to it. Three days since she found Blake in her study, three days since she’d revealed those _damned_ cards, three days since she’d been more angry and afraid that ever before in her life. After she’d thrown Blake out, she’d tried to calm her temper, but it quickly boiled over, and in a moment of madness, her desk was thrown against the wall, her letters, ink, and cards sent flying across the room. She’d regretted it immediately, anger dying as quickly as it flared, and she’d rushed over to tidy up. That was how Klein had found her, on her knees in front of her now broken desk, frantically wiping splattered ink from the cards.

That evening, she’d decided the best course of action was to ignore Blake. She wasn’t going to speak to her, see her, or even think about her. At the very least, it would only be until she’d sorted out the strange knot of anger, fear, and longing that seemed to make itself known when she was around her.

However, avoiding Blake was proving a lot harder than Weiss thought it would. Not an hour after she made her decision, she made her way over to the balcony overlooking the garden, her familiar and much-loved sanctuary for clearing her head. She hadn’t been expecting to find Blake there as well, leaning casually against the balcony, watching the snow fall and cover the garden below. Weiss had frozen in panic and indecision, before she turned tail and fled, hoping that Blake somehow hadn’t noticed her.

And that wasn’t the only time. The next day, Weiss had found her examining the family portrait at the top of the grand staircase. Blake had seen her that time, and looked she wanted to ask something, but Weiss had bolted back down the hallway, quick enough that Blake wouldn’t have caught up with her. The same afternoon, they’d bumped into each other in the library, and Weiss could feel her chest seizing up with uncomfortably familiar panic at the thought of interacting with her. Thankfully, Klein had stepped in, and summoned her away for a private discussion. She’d thanked him profusely, which he’d accepted with confusion. Then there were the times in the drawing room, in the portrait hallway, in the east passage, each one more uncomfortable than the last. She was beginning to think Fate was mocking her.

_But you don’t mind, not really_ , a small voice in the back of her head whispered. That voice had been nagging her for days, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

Today, however, was going to be different. Weiss had a foolproof plan to avoid running into Blake, so she could finally get some peace. She’d sequestered herself in the music room, tucked away at the back of the castle. She hadn’t been here in years, too afraid of what it might make her feel, or remember. Even Klein didn’t come here, out of respect for Weiss’ wishes. It was private, out of the way, and for today, her isolated sanctuary.

She was perched on the piano stool, reading one of the books she’d stolen from the library early that morning. One hand idly stroked the piano keys, wiping off the dust that had accumulated over the years, only rising to turn the pages. As the hours passed, she found herself miming half-remembered melodies, her focusing drifting slowly from the book to the piano. Eventually, she set the book aside, and swivelled on the stool to face the keys. Her hands hovered over the keys for a moment, hesitantly finding the correct positions, before beginning. As soon as the music started, she found herself relaxing, becoming lost in the piece. Weiss was a musician at heart, and it was unforgivable that she’d kept herself away from it for so long.

Soon, she was humming along, and then harmonising with the melody underneath. Music was something she’d been naturally good at, and her father had actively encouraged her to keep at it, one of the few times he’d taken an interest in her talents. At first, she’d delighted in his attention and praise, hungry for it after years of cold indifference. However, her father never did anything for the sake of it, and she soon found herself thrust in front of his friends and associates, performing pieces pre-decided by her father. After a few years of this, she’d summoned enough confidence to ask if she could choose the music for one performance only, and was rewarded with a backhanded strike to her face. She’d been too afraid to complain again, and continued with his strict set list, even though every time she did, she could feel the pleasure she’d once felt with music slipping away.

Weiss paused, taking a moment to shake off the lingering unease thoughts of father always brought. That was all a long time ago, when she was a very different girl than she was today. She took another steadying breath before continuing. Once the melody was filling the room, she felt herself relaxing again. Like before, she soon found herself humming along, but quickly began singing, her light soprano mixing and melding with the piano to take the music to another level. Singing brought with it more memories, of herself, her mother, and Winter gathered around the piano, their mother teaching them simple Atlesian folk songs. Winter had never been that interested in singing, but Weiss had adored sitting on her mother’s knee, watching her with wide-eyed wonder.

The music had shifted without her knowing into a lamenting slow air, one of her mother’s favourites. She was nearing the end of the piece, and as she reached the final rising climax, her voice hung in the air, ringing in harmony with the final chord on the piano. For a moment, everything was still.

“ _Woah_.” A voice came from the other side of the room, and Weiss jumped, her fingers striking the keys and her voice catching in her throat in surprise. Blake was stood in the doorway, her arms behind her back, looking at Weiss with faint wonder. _How the hell did she find me here?_ Blake blinked and looked away when she met Weiss’ eyes, her bow twitching as her cheeks flushed slightly. _Of course, how did I forget she’s a Faunus? Gods, I'm such an idiot._

“I’m sorry if I interrupted. Should… should I leave?” Weiss opened her mouth to speak, but found herself caught by indecision. She had promised to ignore Blake, and her very presence in the castle. _But you never really wanted to do that, not deep down._ That little voice was becoming more persistent, and she was losing the will to fight back. _You’re only hurting yourself._ She sighed, in an odd combination of defeat, acceptance, and relief.

“Please, it’s no trouble. Come in.” Blake smiled, and took a seat next to Weiss on the piano stool. There was a half a foot between them, and Weiss was both thankful for the gap, and upset by the distance between them. She wasn’t sure which feeling bothered her more. They sat like that for a while, neither willing to speak up, too busy casting semi-secret glances at the other. Blake broke the increasingly awkward silence by clearing her throat.

“I didn’t expect you to sing like that. Your voice is beautiful.” It was a soft, heartfelt compliment, and it had been so long since someone had complemented Weiss with such genuine feeling. She wasn’t quite sure what to say in return.

“Thank you.” There was a pause as she considered her next words. “Do you sing?” Blake laughed in surprise, a warm sound that made Weiss herself smile.

“Ah, I’m not really a musical person, I’m afraid. You really don’t want to hear me sing.” She shifted a little closer to Weiss, her fingers running along the piano keys. “I was given piano lessons when I was little, though I seem to remember spending more time running away from them than actually learning.” She smiled fondly at that, and Weiss wanted, not for the first time, to see what she was thinking.

Blake’s hands drifted back to the upper octaves. She started tapping out a simple, childlike tune with one finger. It was stilted and a little stuttery, but she looked so calm and focused, Weiss could’t help but watch her. She didn’t realise Blake had finished until she sat back, her hands on her lap.

“That’s pretty much all I remember. Not nearly as impressive as what you can do.” Weiss thought about that for a moment, mentally replaying the tune, hands ghosting over the keys.

“Play it again for me. I want to try something.” Blake frowned, shrugged a little, then started playing again. This time, Weiss joined in, adding a bass line, and a harmony in the middle register. Blake didn’t seem to be expecting that, but quickly recovered. Once she reached the end of her part, she looked over at Weiss, who nodded at her to keep going. They kept going like this for a while, Blake quickly becoming more and more confident with her part. Each time the melody repeated, Weiss would try something new, changing the rhythm of the bass, adding layers to her harmony. When she ran out of fingers, she started singing. She could feel Blake’s eyes on her, the high little melody she was playing becoming unfocused and stilted. At the end of that repeat, they both stopped playing, their little song coming to a fairly natural close. They sat back in silence again, this time more comfortable than before.

“Weiss, I-”

“Bla-” 

They started speaking at the same time, and stopped almost as quickly. Blake smiled at her.

“You go first.” Weiss nodded, and took a moment to collect her derailed thoughts before speaking again.

“Blake, I want to apologise for my recent behaviour. I should never have lost my temper in the study in the first place, and I _certainly_ shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Added to that, trying to avoid and evade you in the way I’ve been doing was both very childish, and unacceptable. So, I apologise wholeheartedly, for everything that’s happened.” She paused to look over at Blake, feeling any confidence she had slipping away, and she started to fidget with her mother’s ring. “If you don’t feel like forgiving me yet, that’s certainly understandab-”

“No, no, Weiss, it’s okay, really.” Blake gently grabbed her hands, and Weiss looked up at her with surprise. Blake seemed to realise what she was doing, and let her hands go. “I shouldn’t have gone sneaking around in the first place. I _definitely_ shouldn’t have started fiddling with your stuff, even if I didn’t know it was yours. Can _you_ forgive me for _that_? It was Weiss’ turn to smile, and she patted Blake’s hands in a gesture she hoped came across as comforting.

“Of course. All is forgiven.” Weiss rested her hands on Blake’s, and slowly became aware of how warm her hands were, and her own pale fingers started to curl around Blake’s palm, seeking more heat. She suddenly seemed to realise what she was doing, and tried to smoothly return her hand to her lap, much to her internal disappointment. “It seems we both have lessons to take away from this little incident.”

“Agreed.” Blake seemed to briefly consider something, before continuing to speak. “Maybe we could talk a little? Try to understand each other.” Weiss hesitated, thinking of the numerous ways this could be a terrible idea, before nodding in agreement.

“I think that’s perfectly acceptable.” She angled herself more towards Blake, straightening out her dress a little. “Would you like to go first?” Blake nodded.

“Can I ask you to be entirely honest with me?” Weiss was taken aback by how serious she was, a sharp contrast to just moments ago. Her face was nearly unreadable, but her eyes were lit with curiosity. _She’s not asking much_ , the small voice chimed in, _it won’t be bad_. She smiled at Blake, hoping it didn’t betray her slight unease.

“I can do my best.” Blake regarded her strangely, then seemed to accept her answer. She paused, collecting her thoughts, Weiss presumed, then turned back to her.

“What _exactly_ is going on in this castle?” 

_Oh gods._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, now she's gone and done it. She's asked The Question.  
> Next time, Blake might get some answers. You'll just have to see.  
> About that summary: I've hemmed and hawed over it for a few days now, and I've decided that fuck it, it can stay. If I do change it, it'll be once this story is done (which may be less time than you think oops).  
> Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to let me know what you thought/ask any burning questions you may have. Any mistakes are entirely the fault of me and my tired brain.  
> Thanks again, and see you next week!


	7. The Sense of Strangeness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blake wants answers to her questions. But is she going to like what she hears?

The silence that filled the room was a stark contrast to the gentle piano playing of earlier. The easy, comfortable mood had been shattered, and Blake almost regretted asking the question that had caused all this.

_“What exactly is going on in this castle?”_

She’d spent the last few days productively, exploring the castle and taking note of any unusual things she noticed along the way. She’d examined every painting, scoured the library’s diverse collection, searched empty rooms, even attempted to create a rough map of the castle. And to her credit, she had found little oddities nearly everywhere she cared to look, each one the key to unveiling another part of the puzzle. The problem now was that Blake just couldn’t fit the pieces together in any logical way. Once she’d run into Weiss here, it seemed to make sense to ask the lady of the castle herself what was happening. Get information from the source, as it were.

However, it had now been half a minute since she’d asked her question, and Weiss had barely moved, and hadn’t made any indication of answering. She sat staring somewhere in front of the piano with wide eyes, furrowed brows, and her lips twisted in confusion. Her hands, Blake noticed, had curled into white-knuckled fists across her lap, presumably to stop them from shaking again. Blake wasn’t certain that Weiss was actually going to answer her at all, and she drummed her fingers on her legs, contemplating whether or not she should apologise and leave.

“That’s a horribly vague thing to ask.” Weiss’ soft reply startled Blake, and she faced her with curiosity. There was a faint smile playing across Weiss’ lips, but her eyes were filled with uncertainty as they flicked over Blake’s face, doubtlessly trying to read her expression. Her voice had sounded like it wanted to be teasing, but underneath was the unmistakable tone of wariness and caution. She had unballed her fists, and was smoothing down her skirts distractedly. “I’m afraid you’ll have to clarify before I can give you any decent answers.”

It was a reasonable request, Blake presumed. She hadn’t really thought much about the phrasing, she just wanted the question that had been incessantly whirling about her mind out of her head. She hadn’t taken the time before to break down what she wanted to know, but quickly ran through her list of strange things, separating them into groups, and drawing up a new, much shorter list of questions for Weiss.

“You’re right,” she began, “that was an unfair question to open with. Let’s do this a little differently.” _Now, where should I start?_ “Why are there so many unused rooms? What’s the point?” Weiss seemed relieved at that question, and smiled properly this time.

“Ah, like the dining room?” Blake nodded. “It’s quite simple really. Aside from Klein, I am the only person who lives here, and we so rarely receive guests nowadays. It’s frankly impossible to make use of every room here, so some are left as they are. Take the dining room, for instance. When I was young, we only used that room for grand dinners and suchlike. Now, it’s just me, and I simply don’t have any use for a room like that, but I also can’t bear to see it empty, you understand?” Blake nodded again. It did make a lot of sense. This castle was enormous, and even three full days wasn’t enough to fully explore this place. The empty rooms suddenly seemed less suspicious, but there was one thing that was nagging Blake.

“Why keep your study in an empty part of the castle? Wouldn’t it make more sense to be away from rooms you never use, and maybe closer to your quarters instead?” Weiss shrugged, in a way that was somehow both careless and graceful all at once.

“That’s where the study has always been. I don’t want to move it.” Blake sighed internally. _That was a lot more obvious than any of my theories._ She brushed it aside for the moment, and went back to her list.  
“The cards.” For a moment, Weiss looked like she wanted to protest. However, it was only a brief moment, and she instead raised a questioning eyebrow into a near-perfect arch, prompting Blake to continue. “You seemed…upset by them. What did they mean?” Weiss mumbled something too quick and low for even Blake to make out

“You drew what we refer to as die Hohepriesterin, der Tod, and die Liebenden. Put simply, they represent wisdom, death, and love.” Blake considered this new information. She was completely all right with ‘love’ (she was surprised at _how_ ‘all right’ she was with it), but she didn’t understand what ‘wisdom’ was supposed to mean, and the whole ‘death’ aspect was…unsettling, to say the least. It might be an explanation as to why Weiss was so thrown by the cards.

“Is that why you were upset? The death card?” It took her a while to answer, tilting her head as though she was deliberating what to say.

“It was a little more, how shall we put it, _personal_ than that. I was surprised to see you had drawn that particular hand, as I had drawn the same hand not long before.” She paused to look at Blake then, presumably seeing her confusion written all over her face. “Traditionally, paired readings, such as those, are quite rare, and carry a great deal of symbolism and importance. So naturally, I was perturbed to see that you and I seemed to have drawn a hand like that, and I reacted badly, though I don’t need to remind you of that part.”

“What kind of symbolism do those cards have then?” Weiss froze again.

“I’m not sure I’m willing to tell you that yet. Rather, I’m not sure you’ll want to hear it.” Blake frowned at her, about to push the point, but was cut off by an icy glare. “Ask me something else. I’m sure you have plenty of other topics.” The conversation was clearly over, but Blake had already mentally marked the cards down as an area of interest. _I’m sure I can find something in the library to help me_.

Weiss was right, she had plenty of other topics to ask her about, but Blake wasn’t sure she was going to get any further with those than with the cards. These were the small pieces that had been nagging at her the most, that circled around her mind, taunting her to figure it out. She was certain they all fit together into something that made sense, but whether she’d like the answer they gave was a different matter entirely.

“The people in those portraits in the dining room, and on the staircase. Are they related to you?” Weiss apparently found this funny, and she giggled ( _giggled!_ Blake wasn’t sure she could believe her eyes) from behind her hand. The cold air that had been creeping in as the conversation went on had vanished in an instant.

“Oh my, can you not see the resemblance? Have I changed so much?” She angled herself on the piano stool, rearranging her limbs gracefully, and drawing her face into a faintly sorrowful expression, her earlier amusement still dancing under the surface. Seen like this, the resemblance that had struck Blake before was now uncanny, and she let out a small noise of understanding. Weiss smiled broadly, and returned to her original position.

“My father commissioned them from a talented painter in the town one year. He wanted to celebrate a family anniversary, if I recall correctly. He insisted on a family portrait, and one of myself and my siblings. My sister and I were horribly bored during the process, so we look miserable. My brother was young enough to still enjoy the novelty of it.” She frowned then, and she had that look in her eyes Blake was becoming quite familiar with, one of painful reminiscence. “I think Father had them hung where they are as some sort of symbol, so everyone knew whose house they were in. As if those _damned_ snowflakes weren’t enough.” The last part was grumbled, but Blake couldn’t help but smile at Weiss’ tone. There was one detail that still bothered her about the paintings.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you all dressed like you are in the portraits? Isn’t it a little old-fashioned?” Weiss rolled her eyes.

“Again, one of Father’s ideas. He didn’t think it was proper to dress in ‘standard formalwear’ for a portrait, so he _insisted_ on traditional outfits. They were _awful_ things to wear, terribly uncomfortable. You’ll notice none of the portraits here are in what you might call ‘modern’ clothing. You remember the portrait of my sister in the drawing room?” Blake nodded. “That was painted not too long before she died, to celebrate her coming-of-age, but she’s dressed like she lived half a century before. She fought Father viciously about that, but she couldn’t change his mind.” That smile was back, and the pain in her eyes had faded, leaving only nostalgia. “Not that it stopped her from complaining though. The poor painter was still expecting the subdued teenager he’d painted before, not the woman trading snide remarks with her father. Father was _furious_ for showing him up like that, but she didn’t care much.”

“It sounds like you were fond of her.” This was probably the most Blake had ever heard Weiss say in one go, and to her mind indicated the affection Weiss clearly still held for her sister.

“Very much so. There was only a few years between us, so we spent much of our time together as we grew up. She looked out for me, and I looked up to her.” Weiss’ smile was gone now, replaced with a mournful expression. She kept her head down, watching her hands pick at non-existent threads from her skirts. Blake kept quiet, not wanting to disrupt whatever was going through her head. She gave her skirt one last sweep, then sat up straight again “But as I’ve said before, it was a long time ago, and what’s done is done.”

This was one topic Blake wasn’t going to push Weiss on. Besides, she had been given a considerable amount of information about the portraits, and Blake had fully expected to have to prise _that_ out of Weiss. Instead, she’d given it freely, along with an unprecedented glimpse into her history. When Blake ran through what she’d learned in her head, she couldn’t find any glaring flaws. _Yes, but something isn’t right here. Something’s…off._ The voice in the back of her head was annoyingly persistent, and despite everything, she knew it was right, somehow.

“I know I’ve asked you about Mantle before, but there’s a few things I want to clarify. First, when did they leave? How sudden was it?” Weiss frowned at that, pursing her lips in concentration.

“It must have been around 8 years ago.” She nodded to herself. “Yes, that seems about right. The Hunters came to investigate that spring, and Mantle was abandoned in the summer. It was quite literally a case of ‘here one day, gone the next.’ Klein went to fetch supplies from the town one morning, and came back to report there was no-one there. It was most perplexing.” Blake nodded as she considered this.

“What were they so afraid of? You said there were stories of monsters, but why did that drive them away?”

“You have to understand, this part of Atlas is very superstitious. Folklore and legends may be dismissed as children’s stories in the cities, but here, those tales are taken very seriously. You saw that with the Tarot cards.” That made sense. Back home, the inhabitants of the small settlements outside of Kuo Kuana were full of tales of monsters and night-terrors lurking in the surrounding forests. Blake used to love listening to them, sitting around the fire on a moonless night, constantly looking over your shoulder into the forest, as if you might see something lurking among the trees. Weiss continued.

“From what I heard, I believe they were afraid of some undead creature. They referred to it as a _nachzehrer_ , but that’s a terribly old-fashioned word. It’s one of the most well-known legends in these parts: a supposedly deceased person rises from the grave to attack the living. It’s nonsense, of course, but still taken very seriously around here. Seriously enough to call in the Hunters, and for an entire town to leave, apparently.”

“ _Nachzehrer_ …” An unfamiliar word, but the concept rang a bell. “It sounds something like a revenant.” Weiss seemed faintly surprised by that, but nodded in understanding.

“Yes, I suppose that would be an accurate comparison. I wasn’t aware you had that legend in Menagerie.”

“Well, I think every country has stories of the und-” It was then that Weiss’ words finally caught up to her. _Menagerie_. “I never said I was from Menagerie.” Weiss’s face passed through several emotions in rapid succession; confusion, realisation, panic, then a smooth mask of non-expression attempting to conceal her lapse.

“You didn’t have to.” She didn’t elaborate further, meeting Blake’s suspicious glare defiantly, challenging her to question her more. This time, Blake refused to back down. She wasn’t going to let Weiss detract her from her path again.

“What do you mean by that?” Weiss scoffed dismissively, and airily gestured towards her head.

“Please, you think a scrap of artfully placed fabric is enough to conceal _those_? You’re not as subtle as you seem to think you are. You’re certainly not the first Faunus I’ve come across.” The lighter mood of earlier was gone now, replaced by near-tangible tension, growing heavier with every second. “Once I knew you were a Faunus, Menagerie was the next logical leap. Besides, saying you’re from ’a village outside the kingdoms’ is never a believable story. It always suggests you’re hiding something.”

“ _‘Hiding something’?_ ” Blake’s anger had been rising with every word Weiss spoke, and it finally bubbled over. The combination of Weiss calmly tearing down Blake’s carefully maintained image, in such a matter-of-fact, nearly bored tone was infuriating. “This whole place is one mystery after another, neither you or your butler can give me a reasonable answer to anything, and _you_ accuse _me_ of ‘hiding something’?

“Have I not been _willingly_ answering your questions? Have I not explained these so-called _‘mysteries’_ you seem to be finding?” She spat the words out viciously. “Both myself and Klein have been _very_ accommodating to your continued stay here, and yet, you sit there and accuse us of _lying_ to you. Have you no respect?”

“I would _respect_ someone who could give me a straight answer to a simple question, not try and shut down the conversation when she gets uncomfortable. I would _respect_ someone who didn’t keep me here with no solid explanation. I would _respect_ someone who could be honest with me. Don’t try and play the victim here. You-”

“ _Enough!_ ”

Weiss snarled the word, an intense guttural sound, but that wasn’t what caught Blake’s attention. Her lips were drawn back over rapidly elongating canines, and her hands, previously resting on her lap, were tearing up the leather of the stool with razor-like claws. 

_They say there’s a monster in that town._

Blake fell off the stool in panic, instincts driving her to create space between herself and Weiss. She half-scrambled to her feet, and turned to face Weiss, watching her warily. The other girl (if that term was even appropriate) seemed unbothered by her monstrous state. She looked at her hands with what could only be described as bored annoyance, and gently ran a finger across the tips of her fangs. She sighed, and as she did so, her claws and canines shrunk, until it looked like nothing had ever happened. She looked over at Blake, who was backing away towards the door, with resignation in her eyes, and gently patted the spot next to her.

“You’d better sit down. I believe we still have much to discuss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. I guess the cat's out the bag now (pun slightly intended). And they were doing so well...
> 
> Sorry this took me a little longer than I thought it would. I spent all of last week writing an essay, and this was a bit of an afterthought. Fun fact: I almost uploaded my essay instead of this chapter, and while I'm sure you'd appreciate a summary of sex hormones, you're probably a lot more interested in Blake and Weiss.  
> Next chapter will probably be up next weekend, just to get us (i.e., me) back on schedule.
> 
> 'Nachzeher' is an actual vampire-like legend (those are a bit of a hobby of mine). It's not strictly speaking accurate to the story, but roughly fits in with what I'm trying to do with Atlas.
> 
> As always, let me know what you guys think!


	8. The Girl Who Is Both Death and the Maiden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weiss confronts her fears, and confirms Blake's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Blake had barely moved since Weiss had spoke. She was eyeing her hand on the stool with suspicion, making no effort to move closer, but had thankfully stopped trying to retreat towards the door. She was clearly still on edge, but the sheer instinctual panic that had been present before was dimming. Weiss patted the ripped leather again, aware of golden eyes following the motion.

“Please, sit. It will make this easier for both of us.” For a second, nothing happened, and Weiss was fleetingly worried they were going to be locked like this until one of them went mad, but Blake moved first, taking tentative steps closer. She sat as far away from Weiss as she physically could, half her body hanging off the edge, something which pained Weiss more than she liked to admit.

“I’d like to begin by assuring you that a large amount of what I just told you was the truth.” Blake looked at her skeptically. “Some of it had been… _twisted_ a little to hide the reality of my nature, but none of it was an outright falsehood, I promise you.” Weiss kept her gaze locked steadily with Blake’s, hoping some of her sincerity would come through with her words. It seemed to work, as Blake nodded once, slowly, but her body remained tense. Weiss took a moment to collect her thoughts, then continued.

“It should be clear that the stories of monsters in the town were not mere rumours, and doubtless you have made the connection between these stories and myself.” Blake raised an eyebrow at her in a gesture that Weiss could only interpret as _'obviously'_. She fought back a smile, then continued. “Myself and my family are the monsters behind the legend of the _nachzehrer_. With time, the legend morphed, but originally, it was very clear to the humans who the monsters were.”

“So, your family preyed on the people of Mantle? And that’s why they left?” Weiss hadn’t been expecting Blake to say anything. In some ways, she was thankful she was: it meant she was feeling less panicked than before. But this question came with an answer she wasn’t sure Blake would like.

“Strictly speaking, that’s not accurate. My family have been here for hundreds of years, and in that time, we were very careful not to take exclusively from the town, to avoid raising suspicion. It was one of the reasons we had so many galas and grand dinners, you see. If one of the guests _happened_ to go missing, it was blamed on an accident in the mountains.” _Frightfully common occurrences_ , Father had assured one guest as he led him through the castle, _it’s almost expected at this time of year_. “After my family passed, such events were no longer possible, and I had to turn to alternate methods, such as unsuspecting townsfolk. It took them several decades, but eventually they grew scared and left, as you are aware. Of course, I still needed sustenance, so I turned to other methods. Travellers, for instance.” Blake froze at that, and looked at her with fearful realisation, as though she’d just made a terrible connection.

“ _You_ killed the missing travellers. You’re going to kill _me_. That’s really why I’m here, isn’t it?” Her voice rose with each sentence, and her fear twisting with anger.

“If I was going to kill you, you’d be dead already.” Weiss’ voice matched Blake’s in volume, and it caught her attention long enough for Weiss to continue. “I have always followed a specific cycle: take in the travellers, feed them, lead them to their rooms, and kill them. No-one _ever_ survives the night. But this is approaching your fifth night, is it not? If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so long before now.”

“Then why am I still alive?” Her anger had faded now, replaced with what Weiss considered desperate curiosity.

“I…” For once, the words weren’t rolling off her tongue. She had known this question was coming, but she dreaded having to voice the answer. It meant admitting things she wasn’t brave to admit, not even to herself. She risked looking at Blake, but turned away quickly, unable to face her.

“ _Why?_ ” Her voice was soft, but pleading, and Weiss could barely resist surrendering to it. She sighed heavily.

“I have my reasons, but they are mine and mine alone. But know this: I promise you that you will come to no harm here. Not from me, nor from anyone else. And I _don’t_ make a habit of breaking my promises.” Weiss managed to summon the courage to meet Blake’s eyes again, seeing her own earnest expression reflected back in golden eyes. Blake regarded her for an agonising moment, then nodded in satisfaction. The tension that had been coiling in her frame unwound as she did so, and Weiss felt a wave of relief hit her at the sight.

“Thank you.” Blake smiled faintly at Weiss, who couldn’t help but smile back. However, her expression quickly turned serious again. “I don’t want to push the matter, but does this have anything to do with the Tarot cards? Is it about that hand you said we both drew?” Weiss had been both hoping and dreading Blake would make that connection. 

“Ultimately, it has everything to do with those cards. But it is a difficult subject matter, one I’m still not willing to go into. Please, let’s talk about something else.” Blake nodded in understanding, and Weiss was grateful that, for once, she was letting the subject be. She looked down at her fingers, which had been absent-mindedly playing with her mother’s ring as she spoke. She smoothed her skirts to try and refocus herself, and as she did so, she was suddenly aware that Blake had moved closer than before, no longer perching on the end. She found herself smiling again, and looked up to find Blake was watching her patiently, with an identical smile. When she realised Weiss was watching, she cleared her throat awkwardly and spoke.

“How much does Klein know about…all this? Do you have to hide it from him?” A fair question, all things considered.

“Klein has been in the service of my family since I was young. He knows everything about our nature, and what we must do to survive. He brings the travellers to me, and he disposes of them afterwards. It’s not a pleasant job, but he’s served my family this way for years.” Blake grimaced a little at the image.

“Is he like you then? Is he a revenant?” The last word was hesitant, as though she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to say. 

“Oh no, Klein is very much _not_ one of us. That being said,” Weiss frowned a little in consideration, “I don’t think anyone was ever entirely sure _what_ he is. The only thing we can be sure of is that he is very definitely _not_ human.” Blake frowned at that. It wasn’t a satisfactory answer, and Weiss knew that. She and Winter used to debate the subject as children, throwing out theory after outlandish theory. Neither one had asked Klein himself, mainly because, as Winter had put it, _you can’t go around asking people what they are, Weiss. Father would kill us if he found out._

“How old are you?” The question was rather out of the blue, and when Weiss turned to Blake, it seemed like she had surprised herself by asking that question. 

“Blake!” Weiss gasped in mock indignation. “Don’t you know it’s terribly rude to ask a lady’s age?” Blake blushed, and started to stammer apologies, but Weiss dismissed them with a casual wave of her hand. “I understand why you asked, don’t worry. And to answer you, I stopped counting thirty years ago, but I would estimate somewhere near three hundred and sixty years.” Blake let out a little ‘oh’ in surprise, and Weiss had to stifle a giggle at her face. “I must admit, I’m curious as to how old you _thought_ I was.”

“I thought we were roughly the same age. So, early twenties, maybe?” Weiss failed to hold back her laughter this time, while Blake tried and failed to suppress a sheepish grin. Once she’d quieted down, she leaned over and gently patted Blake’s leg, an action which surprised them both.

“Well, I must say I am flattered. It’s always good to know I’ve kept my youthful features in my terribly old age.” Blake blushed, and rolled her eyes at Weiss, who only smiled wider. After one last pat, she removed her hands, missing the warmth immediately, placing them delicately back in her lap. The two were almost sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, thigh-to-thigh, and the comfortable, easy atmosphere of earlier was finally back. Weiss hated to break it, but there was one last thing she had to know.

“Do you still feel comfortable being here?” Blake blinked at the unexpected question, frowning in consideration.

“‘Here’ in the castle, or ‘here’ with you?”

“Both, I suppose.” There was a moment of silence as Blake chose her words, and Weiss felt a knot of anxiety building within her.

“I don’t like being stuck in the castle, feeling like some kind of prisoner. I _know_ the snow can be dangerous, and I _know_ it’s not safe for me to travel, but I _wish_ I could be on my way, heading to Alsius, and getting ready to go home.” Weiss’ heart sank at that. She’d been expecting it to some extent, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. She nodded sadly, staring at her hands in her lap, but another, much warmer hand, touched hers, bringing her attention back to Blake. “But I don’t feel uncomfortable here. And I don’t feel uncomfortable around you. I know that no matter what, I’m safe here. I trust you, and that’s not something I say to many people. So believe me when I say I feel very comfortable with you, Weiss.” It had been so long since anyone had said something like to that to her, and Weiss knew that she would be crying if she could. The anxiety had burst in an instant, replaced with something that warmed her to her core, something that almost made her feel alive. She took a moment to collect herself, calming herself to the point where she could form coherent sentences.

“That’s good, then. Thank you for your honesty.” She could barely get the words out steadily, desperate to keep some modicum of self-control, but Blake seemed to know how she was feeling, and smiled slightly, squeezing one cold hand with her own. Weiss squeezed back, and they sat like that for a while, bodies almost touching, hands linked, peaceful.

The room was darker than before, Weiss realised, and after a quick glance at the grandfather clock at the end of the room, she withdrew her hand from Blake’s, and moved towards the window, pulling aside the great fabric curtains which blocked nearly all the light. The moon was low in the sky, but what little light there was highlighted the falling snow. She thought for a moment, ideas brewing in her head, before she half turned to Blake, who was still watching her from behind the piano.

“If you wanted, you could explore the town tomorrow. It might be too dangerous to journey far, but I can see no reason why you should stay in the castle all day. Let Klein or myself know where you’re going, just in case.” Blake smiled, wider than Weiss had seen before, and she was surprised how it struck a chord within her. “And should you wish to learn more about Tarot, there are several volumes in the library I can point out to you. However, I must ask that you think long and hard about whatever you may discover. Sometimes, we aren’t always able or willing to understand the futures laid out for us.” 

“Thank you Weiss. I appreciate it.” The new warmth was bubbling again, and Weiss didn’t try to cover her smile.

“You’re very welcome. Now, I believe Klein normally has something prepared for you at this time, yes? You’d better be on your way, he can get most upset when his schedules are not adhered to.” Blake looked at the clock, swore under her breath, and headed for the door, waving a short goodbye to Weiss before she left, footsteps echoing as she ran down the hallway. Weiss shook her head fondly, and turned back to the window.

 _A risky move, Schnee, giving her access to the books. Who knows what she might find?_ This new voice in the back of her mind was taunting, and reminded her far too much of Whitley, but it had a point. Learning about Tarot meant learning what Fate intended for her, and when, not if, Blake pieced together the intricacies of why she was still here, Weiss wasn’t sure how she was going to react. She could run away in the middle of the night, daunted by the future indicated by her cards, die Liebenden in particular. It wasn’t an outcome Weiss wanted, of course, but it was one she must prepare for, to steel herself for a prospective heartbreak ( _heartbreak_ : how had it come to this already?) _Yet_ , the small, but annoyingly optimistic part of her whispered, _she could decide to stay. She could decide to accept her fate and all that come with it. She could accept you._

And for the first time in a long time, Weiss dared to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now Weissy those are some interesting things you're feeling. Care to tell us more?
> 
> Any spelling and grammar errors are all my fault. It's the last week of term, folks. I'm tired as hell. Give me a break.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and feel free to share any thoughts/theories/opinions about this little story. I have a million headcanons/ideas for this, and will willingly share them with you all. As long as they're not spoilery, because that ruins the fun for everyone.
> 
> See you with a new chapter next week!
> 
> Ps: I realised I forgot to say this last chapter, but bonus points if anyone can work out what the 'something off' with the paintings was ;)


	9. Sleeping Beauty in the Wood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake uncovers the truth about the cards, and truths about herself.

Blake’s original plan for the day was to get out of the castle, perhaps explore Mantle like Weiss had suggested. However, when she rose in the morning and found the snow still falling outside, heavier than the night before, she decided she would much rather stay in the warmth of the library. Before she left, she automatically reached for her bow, left next to the dresser against the wall, but hovered over it indecisively. _There’s not much point in it now, I suppose._

As had been the case every morning so far, Klein had just finished plating up breakfast as she entered the kitchen. He greeted her with a slight bow of his head, and a smile which seemed more genuine today than before.

“Good morning, Miss Belladonna. My lady has informed me of the changes to the terms of your stay. Should you choose to leave the castle today, please inform me beforehand. I can prepare some supplies before you leave.”

“Thank you Klein, but I think I’m going to do some research in the library today.” Klein gave her a significant look, one Blake wasn’t entirely sure she understood, and nodded once.

“Of course. I shall let my lady know immediately. I believe she knew some books which may be of use to you.” He smiled again, with a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes, before heading out the kitchen, leaving Blake to her own devices. He came back just as she finished eating (it was a little uncanny how he always managed to time it so exactly), and led her though the passages and hallways until they came to the library. He knocked twice, but unusually, didn’t wait for an answer before pushing open the door.

Weiss was standing in front of a bookshelf, casually examining the titles. The door closed behind Blake, and it was then Weiss turned to her with a wide and whole-hearted smile.

“Good morning Blake! Please, follow me.”

Weiss led her towards the back corner of the library, stopping in front of a bookshelf more sparsely filled than any of the others. She surveyed the shelf with a frown, hand against her chin, before she stepped forward, and began pulling several volumes of the shelf, dropping them carefully into Blake’s waiting arms. Eventually she was satisfied with her choices, and turned back to Blake, who had to crane to see Weiss from behind the mountainous pile of books.

“Ah, let me help you with that.” Before Blake could say anything, half of the pile was effortlessly lifted, and placed on the desk in the corner. “That should be a little easier for you now, I hope. I’m sure you’ll find useful information in amongst these.” She smiled kindly, and Blake couldn’t stop herself from returning it.

“Would you like to stay? To help me sort though all of this.” The smile wilted, sadness and doubt creeping into Weiss’ expression. 

“In any other instance, I would be more than happy to help you. But when it comes to this, I think it’s better you take the time to read, and come to your own conclusions.” Blake nodded in understanding, a little disappointed at the same time. Weiss seemed to register that, and gently touched her arm, the cold a startling contrast to her own warmth. “Join me for supper tonight. If you have any questions then, I will do my best to answer them for you. That is, only if you _want_ to, you mustn’t feel _obliged_ to.” She was twisting her ring again, and it was Blake’s turn to reach out comfortingly. 

“Of course I’ll join you for supper, Weiss. Eight o’clock?” Weiss nodded semi-solemnly, the slight quirk of her lips betraying her delight.

“Yes, that should be fine. I’ll make sure everything is prepared. Oh! There’s one more thing you will need.” She leaned past Blake, arm brushing dangerously close to Blake’s face, reaching for a thick volume tucked away behind others. She shook off the dust, and handed it over to Blake, who was surprised at its weight. “Unfortunately, most of the these books are in Atlesian, rather than Remnant Universal, but this,” she tapped the cover, and Blake couldn’t stop her nose wrinkling at the dust, “should aid you with translation. Again, if there are issues, please let me know tonight.” She spun on her heel as she tuned to leave, giving Blake a little smile before the door swung shut behind her. Blake turned back to the books sprawled across the desk, each one itching to have its secrets revealed. _Now, where should I start?_

———

Finding information was taking longer than Blake had expected. Most of her morning was lost trying to find relevant-looking pages in each of the books Weiss had picked out. From then, it was the painstaking task of translating the information, each sentence taking several minutes to decipher. By late afternoon, as the last rays of sunlight were disappearing behind the mountains, bathing the library in orange, Blake had filled only a couple of pages in her journal with notes..

The one thing she’d noticed about all of the books was how frustratingly _vague_ they were. Wisdom was about intuition and instinct, two things she never associated with smart decisions. Death was never actually about dying, it was about change and rebirth. But sometimes, it apparently did portend death and destruction, and should be taken as a warning. Funnily enough, Blake didn’t find that reassuring. As for the Lovers (the card she wasn’t ashamed to admit she was the most interested in), the books were undecided whether it meant romantic, platonic, or familial, and that had nearly been enough to make her scream into the pages in frustration.

At supper that evening, Blake brought this up with Weiss, who, as Blake had thought she would be, was as vague as the books.

“I’m afraid all texts on Tarot are like that to some extent. A lot of it is interpretation, based on one’s own understanding of the card meanings. Unfortunately, those meanings can vary from place to place.” She paused in contemplation, tapping her fingers against the surface of the table next to her. “I would recommend looking at _Wahrsagarei im Norden_. I believe it uses the closest card interpretations to my own.” Blake’s confusion must have been written across her face, as Weiss sighed slightly when she looked over at her. “It’s the dark blue one with silver embossing. The one with a map on the first pages.” _That’s a bit more useful._

Secretly, Blake had been hoping Weiss would offer to help her translate, or provide some of her own insight, but it seemed she was serious about leaving Blake to her own devices. However, the next morning, when she came back to the library, the dark blue book had been moved to the top of her pile. There was a small note in elegant, slanting handwriting on top: _I hope this helps in some way_. When she flicked through the book, she was pleasantly surprised to see small pieces of paper, marking several pages relating to Wisdom, Death, and the Lovers. She smiled. _Not that serious about leaving me be, it would seem_.

With the aid of the new book, it was a little easier for Blake to find some relevant information, and, to her delight, consistent card meanings. She worked quicker than the day before, more used to navigating the translation book, and not having to repeatedly flip between multiple sources. So much quicker, in fact, that it was only a few hours after lunch that she set down her pen, satisfied that she had a fuller understanding of the cards.

Now, however, came the tricky part: interpreting what they meant for herself, for Weiss, and for the two of them together. This was the part where truths could be uncovered, and despite her previous desperation, she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to go any further with this. Revealing your Fate was a decision you could never turn back from, and all the stories she’d ever been told made it clear it was a terrible idea. It would be so much easier to give up now, to never find out what Fate had in store for her.

 _But could you live with that?_ The voice came from the back of her mind, asking questions she didn’t want to answer, but had to face. _Could you leave here and try to pretend this never happened? Could you make that choice to reject everything you could have, simply because you’re scared? Could you forgive yourself for that?_

_…_

_No. I couldn’t._

———

“Did you make any more progress today?” They’d been settled in the drawing room for several comfortable minutes before Weiss spoke. Blake had been expecting the question to come up at some point, but she still took time to sip her tea and collect her thoughts before answering.

“I did. I think I understand things a little better now. Thank you for marking out the pages, by the way.” Weiss arched her eyebrows in faux surprise, her smile not quite hidden by her cup.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Blake rolled her eyes, causing Weiss to laugh a little. “I thought I would point you in the right direction, perhaps make your work a little easier. Will you be doing more tomorrow?”

“No, I’d like to go to Mantle tomorrow. I learned a lot today, and…well, I need some time to think it all over.” Weiss frowned, neither upset not angry, but something else Blake couldn’t quite place.

“I see.” She sighed, in acceptance and resignation. “This sort of work can be a lot to take in. I can understand if you’d like time to consider it. I’ll let Klein know to keep the doors unlocked tomorrow.” Blake thanked her, and Weiss smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Blake felt a pang of guilt at causing it.

———

The streets and rooftops were blanketed in a thick layer of snow that crunched underneath Blake’s boots. The hanging flower baskets were similarly buried, and the fountain in the square had frozen over. Mantle was prettier in the snow, she decided, although she wasn’t overly fond of the cold. Her ears and nose were stinging slightly, but her hands were warm, thanks to the gloves Weiss had thrust at her before she left.

It was strange to wander around a ghost town. She had wanted to explore every nook and cranny, to map out Mantle like she had mapped the castle, but poking around the houses felt like an invasion of privacy, abandoned or otherwise. Instead, Blake found herself appreciating the peculiarity of a town caught in time, noting little details like the crumbling Harvest Festival decorations, and the ‘new releases’ still in the bookshop window. However, these were mostly a distraction, an attempt to keep her mind from slipping back to the castle, to the cards, to _Weiss_.

She sighed, and sat down heavily in one of the benches in the town square. Putting together the pieces yesterday had been difficult, but dealing with them afterwards was even more of a challenge. Was she supposed to act on them? Or wait them out, and see what happened. Were there _rules_ for these things? Blake could feel a headache brewing, and closed her eyes, focusing on what she knew.

 _Die Hohepriesterin_. Wisdom. Representing knowledge, understanding, and intuition. According to the blue book (Varsgarey? She could never say it right), it meant that life was changing, and nothing could be presumed, or taken at face value. Instead, she should rely on her instincts to point her way. It sounded like bullshit, to Blake’s mind, and she still wasn’t really sure what she was meant to do with it.

 _Der Tod_. Death. Representing sudden and significant change and/or transformation. Most books said it indicated one part of life was ending, and a new, more important stage was beginning. The blue book, however, was more blunt on the subject. It stated that Death meant just that: the end of one life, but also hinted at the beginning of another soon after. This was the one Blake didn’t like. Accepting the cards as Fate meant accepting this, and there was no way she could do that. It sounded stupid, but she was almost _scared_ of that card.

And finally, _die Liebenden_. The Lovers. Representing love, harmony, and choices ( _this is becoming a theme_ , Blake thought). The blue book was very clear on this one. It referred to a bond between lovers, drawn together by a strong, nigh unbreakable connection, but it came with a choice, on which could change the course of one’s life. Blake was hoping the card would be something like that. The fact that she and Weiss had both drawn this card sent a thrill through her body, she was done trying to convince herself otherwise. _Why even try? You’ll only hurt yourself._

In many ways, the Lovers was the most important card in that deck. It would explain Weiss’ promise to keep her from harm, and certainly explained her decision to keep Blake alive in the first place. For her part, Blake was definitely not opposed to the idea of love. It was the most easy part of the cards to accept, one part of Fate she could see herself fulfilling. It was exciting, like being a teenager again.

But if she accepted the Lovers, if she accepted the possibility of love ( _of Weiss_ , a tiny voice whispered) it meant accepting Death, and all that came with it. As desperate as she was to give in to love, a small, selfish part of her screamed out to save herself, not to sacrifice it for a girl. The headache was here in full force, pounding between her eyes, and she pinched her nose with a sigh. It was almost funny, she thought, these tiny slips of decorated paper causing all this conflict. Love and Death. Heartbreak and Life.

 _This must be the life-changing choice of the Lovers_ , she thought. Logically, there was no question what to do. Only a fool would risk their life on love, something which could be fickle and fleeting. Logically, she knew exactly what she had to do, no matter how much it went against her heart, and every fibre of her being.

And this, Blake realised, was the purpose of Wisdom. A choice made on instincts, not based on prior knowledge. She couldn’t apply logic to something as complex and fluid as feelings, and certainly not to love. So now, there was only one question to answer: _what do my instincts tell me?_ The answer was clear as day, echoing around her head and heart, louder and louder until it was undeniable.

_Choose Fate._  
Choose Love.  
Choose **Her**. 

The snow was falling again now, and she let a flake fall onto the white leather of her glove, watching it melt with a smile. When she looked up, she could see the castle rising above the town, less an imposing structure now, and more of a beacon calling her back. The headache was gone, vanished when she made her choice, and she grinned, rising from her seat and running through the town.

Blake burst into the castle, panting slightly from the cold. She stamped the snow from her boots, and she was shaking the melted droplets from her ears and hair when a towel was thrust into her hands. She turned to see Klein had appeared silently beside her, one eyebrow raised at her sudden appearance. She quickly dried her hair, taking special care around her ears. When she was done, she turned back to Klein, holding out the towel, about to ask the question on the tip of her tongue, but he spoke first.

“If you’re looking for my lady, you’ll want to head towards the garden balcony.” Blake stuttered out her thanks, turning towards the door, but Klein’s hand shot out to grab her shoulder, stopping her movement entirely. He took the towel she had forgotten she was holding, and smiled warmly at her for the first time since he led her here. “Tidy yourself up a little, first. And think about what you want to say before you make a fool of yourself.” He clapped her shoulder twice, then released his grip. “Now go, before you lose your nerve.” She flattened out her hair, straightened her jacket, took a breath, and headed into the castle.

The route to the balcony was one she had taken several times before, and navigating these hallways was almost becoming familiar to her. It was tempting to jog through the castle, excitement driving her onwards, but her nerves were kicking in, slowing her down in an attempt to delay the inevitable. She walked past the portraits, head held high, hands clenched at her side, straining the leather. As she reached the door, she had to take a breath to steady herself, adrenaline causing her hands to shake against the wood, before she pushed them wide open.

Weiss was standing with her back to the doors, looking out over the garden, silhouette highlighted against the still falling snow. She didn’t visibly react to Blake coming onto the balcony, but when Blake stood next to her, she moved a little closer, so they were standing nearly shoulder-to-shoulder. They stood like that for several moments, Blake composing her words in her head, and Weiss waiting patiently for her to speak.

“I think I understand the cards now.” She cursed herself silently. It’s more abrupt than she wanted, and definitely more awkward, but Weiss doesn’t seem bothered by that. She barely reacts to the words, only tilting her head in Blake’s direction.

“So, what do they mean then?” Her voice was calm and steady, but Blake had heard that tone enough to know it was masking insecurity. She was acutely aware of her own nerves and doubts rising, and paused to summarise her swirling thoughts.

“Wisdom is a choice. One that relies on instinct, not knowledge.” She risked a look at Weiss, but she was still staring out into the garden. “Death is just that: the end of one life, but also the beginning of another. It’s sudden change and transformation. And the Lovers,” she paused again, and Weiss finally turned to look at her fully, “that’s, well, love, and unbreakable bonds between people. It’s a choice, one which could change someone’s life.” Weiss nodded absently, a faint smile on her lips, but anxiety in blue eyes.

“You’ve done well in so little time. It’s actually quite impressive. But tell me, what do you think about them?” Blake blinked in surprise, unsure how to answer that.

“I didn’t understand Wisdom, not until less than an hour ago. But, I think I have some idea what it wanted from me.” Weiss’ brows furrow in confusion, but Blake continues. “Death is…daunting to say the least. It’s fair to say it’s the one that scares me the most. I don’t like it, but I equally, I don’t think there’s anything I can do to stop it, and that might be what terrifies me the most.” Weiss nodded again.

“I would be more surprised had you accepted _der Tod_ willingly. It is rarely a comfort to draw. And what about _die Liebenden_?” Her nerves were bubbling to the surface again, threatening to spill out with every word. _Here goes._

“I think the Lovers might be the most important card in our hand. It’s why you didn’t kill me that first night, and why you promised to keep me safe. You know that I’m here because of it, because of this strong, unbreakable bond between us. Because of love, I guess. It’s a scary prospect, i-in a good way, of course. A little overwhelming, but I don’t mind, not really, it’s actually quite exciting. I-” Her babbling was cut off by Weiss’ finger pressing gently, but insistently against her lips. The surprise of the gesture more than anything else was what silenced her, and based on the way Weiss glances at her finger, she is just as surprised by her actions as Blake.

“ _Breathe_ , Blake.” She smiled. “You’re right about that card. It’s the reason behind everything that’s happened to you, in so many ways. But let me ask you one last question: knowing all this, do you still want to stay here?” There was fear in her eyes, but it was mixed with hope. The nerves were almost overwhelming, but Blake managed to keep herself steady through some miracle. Carefully, she removed Weiss’ finger from where it was still pressed against her lips, and held her hand lightly in her own.

“Yes, Weiss. I still want to be here. With you.” There was a smile dancing at the edge of her lips, threatening to break across her face. “I’ve made my decision and I accept my Fate and all that may come with open arms, and an open heart. I chose to accept Wisdom, and Death. I chose to accept Love. And, most importantly of all, I chose you, Weiss. That is, if you’ll have me, of course.” Weiss’ hand curled further around Blake’s, tightening the hold, and there was no wiping the smile from Blake’s face. The same smile was playing across Weiss’ face, undeniable joy gleaming in her eyes.

“Of course I’ll have you. As if I could ever say otherwise.”

Blake began to reply, but abruptly cut herself off, only then realising how close they were. Their joined hands were resting between them, and they were face-to-face, breathing the same air. Weiss was watching her carefully, eyes flicking across her face to read her expression, and Blake was very aware she was doing the same thing. _Eyes, to lips, and back to eyes again._ Each wanted the other to do something, _anything_ , but neither was willing to break the peace. _Eyes, to lips, and back to eyes again._

_Fuck it._

Blake moved almost without thinking, and it wasn’t until she felt soft lips against her own she realised she’d kissed her. The nerves were melting into nothingness, and her head and heart were cheering with one voice. _I’m kissing her!_ She could feel Weiss press a little closer, her hands tightened her grip on Blake’s, her thumb brushed Blake’s in slow, lazy strokes. There were stars exploding behind her eyes, and she could feel both her’s and Weiss’ lips curve into identical smiles, before she pulled away almost unwillingly.

It was brief, but felt like a moment stretched into eternity. Blake could feel excitement coursing through her veins, and it was like she was a teenager again, giggling over kisses in darkened corners, away from prying eyes. Weiss was looking at her in awe, eyes wide and mouth open, one hand untangled from Blake’s to press lightly against her lips. There was wetness on her face, and Blake wiped it with her free hand. Weiss stopped her hand in its motion, examining the droplet on leather with puzzled curiosity, before wiping at her own face.

“Are you okay?” It wasn’t that unusual to cry after a first kiss, Blake thought, but she still wanted to make sure Weiss was all right. She smiled in response, pulling her attention away from tear-stained hands.

“Yes,” Weiss said, “yes, I think so. Better than I’ve been in decades.” She squeezed Blake’s hand again, smiling broadly at her, before she turned back to face the garden. Her body was leaning against Blake’s, thumb absentmindedly running across her knuckles. Blake smiled again, mind still racing, but relaxed against Weiss, content for now to simply watch the snow fall in the garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you it was going to happen, didn't I?  
> This is the longest chapter to date, and hoo boy it was a bitch to write, but it's done now! If there are any spelling/grammar/German mistakes, please let me know.  
> Scheduling is going to be a bit funny for a few weeks because we are now entering the most wonderful time of the year. That's right folks, it's exam time! If I get one up in 10 days, I'll be happy. Just letting you know so you don't think I've died or something.  
> For those of you wondering about the portrait mystery I left last week, I'll comment the answer sometime soon. Like I said, it requires a little detective work!  
> Finally, thank you for reading! Let me know what you think, and feel free to mention any questions/theories/ you might have. I'll do my best to give spoiler-free answers.  
> Have a nice week, folks!


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